


Always falling a little deeper (in love with you)

by Eriathalia



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriathalia/pseuds/Eriathalia
Summary: Reposting this after I took it down out of thinking it was a massive screw up of a prompt fill.Turn out it wasn't
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 43





	Always falling a little deeper (in love with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting this after I took it down out of thinking it was a massive screw up of a prompt fill.  
> Turn out it wasn't

**Eden**

Crowley had known from the moment the angel admitted he had given away his sword to aid the humans. He had known the angel was different, special, would give a deeper meaning to his own existence. Back then he hadn't been able to pinpoint what the feeling bubbling up inside his chest had been. The word simply hadn't been invented yet.

But whatever that new thing was, he had meant to hold on to it. 

As the the first rain in history kept pouring down on them he raised his eyes, forever memorizing soft white wings offering him shelter from the storm. It was the first kindness that anyone had shown him since his fall.

_ What Crowley had felt then was the first flicker of infatuation _ . 

**Noah's Ark**

“You can't kill kids!” The demon's words so full of disbelief and horror still rang in Aziraphale's ears. Over and over the moment replayed in his head, making him question whether he was indeed on the right side. Well, he mused, he must have been. Wasn't it all part of the great plan? And wasn't an angel like him meant to obey, instead of questioning HER decisions? 

He did not want to fall out of grace and yet he had felt that for once the demon had been right. It seemed rather fascinating, the concept of a fallen creature showing compassion. It made Aziraphale wonder whether there truly was such a distinction between good and evil or if there was more to it. They were meant to be black and white, Crawley and himself, but in that one moment there had been a shade of grey, a revelation that the truth was somewhere wedged in the middle. Could it be true? Aziraphale, against better judgement, longed to meet the other again. 

_ Perhaps then he would be able to grasp what the tingling inside him whenever he thought of ginger curls meant _ .

**Ancient Greece**

The angel seemed radiant, all dressed in white, his round face glowing with excitement as he devoured the first script of Antigone. Over the span of years he had spent in Greece encouraging camaraderie, and, if he was being truthful, indulging in the tastes of wine and grapes and everything else the Greek had to offer, he had also encountered a thriving man named Sophocles. They had become close friends almost instantaneously, the man's bright mind and the angel's curiosity complementing each other to perfection, so when Aziraphale was offered a glimpse of the newest piece of literature (albeit the word had not been invented back then), he jumped to the occasion. 

For whatever reason Aziraphale had taken a particular liking to scripts and never passed up an opportunity to have a peek at something more. 

Crowley watched him from afar, set on listening to his voice amongst the crowd whenever he commented on a section which especially struck his fancy. 

Slowly, he sauntered across the room, looking over the other until his angel looked up at him. 

"Crawl- Crowley?" The angel asked, a mixture of surprise and something the demon could not pinpoint on his face. "What brings you here?"

It was supposed to come out as dismay, but Aziraphale was unable to hide a certain satisfaction at being faced with his supposed adversary once again.

Crowley shrugged and leaned against a column next to him, the teal colored robe riding up to reveal one of his toned thighs. The angel's cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Ah, a temptation here and there," the demon answered, stretching a little just to tease the other some more. "The Greek are rather adept in the ways of pleasure. Truly an easy task." 

The angel crossed his arms."Naughty. You really are rotten to the core then." He nodded to give his words more weight. “Let it be known that the inspiration for greater art shall prevail. It will outweigh the lust and desire for the carnal pleasures." 

At that the demon laughed. "Will it now? Oh how wrong you are. Have you seen what they are depicting in white marble? I would say human nature shows rather nicely."

Aziraphale pouted. "Art! Finer crafts! Poetic scriptures! You will see!"

"Have it your way, angel." With that Crowley turned away. "So long. We shall see who's right." 

Swinging his hips, he strutted off, unaware of blue eyes lingering on his lean back. 

_ Aziraphale sensed a fire had been lit inside his heart. What he felt were the first flickers of longing _ .

**Rome**

It had been a mistake to come here, Crowley decided. He had wanted to seek out the Roman baths for some relaxation. Just having set into motion what would ultimately turn out to be Ceasar's demise, Crowley wanted to enjoy some privacy but instead was faced with the plump frame of a certain angel which he had attempted to purge from his traitorous mind. Shouldn't he have sensed the heavenly presence? Did he ignore it? Either way it was too late to retreat as sky blue eyes looked up and met bright yellow ones.

And wasn't the angel just a sight to behold? Crowley felt himself swallow around a lump in his throat, taking in a wide chest, rounded stomach and plump thighs glistening with sweat, the creamy skin making him glow and the white curls clinging to the other's forehead.

"Aziraphale," he started, but did not know how to go on.

"Crowley." The angel nodded and readjusted the sheet covering his privates, or rather the place where a human's most intimate parts were supposed to be. 

Feigning some bravado, the demon sprawled on a stone bench across from the other, not once breaking eye contact. Trying to seduce innocent souls once more?" The angel leaned forward with a stern expression on his beautiful face.

"Humanity bears the seed of evil just as much as of good. They merely need a little push. Besides, I enjoy the wine. Combines the necessary with the useful. Do not pretend you aren't the same. What with the oysters you so praised the other day."

"That," Aziraphale protested, "is hardly the same."

"It isn't?" The demon raised an eyebrow. "Your corporation speaks for itself." Not that he minded, Crowley had to admit to himself, but going by the angel's change of demeanor his supposedly harmless, albeit teasing remark had touched a sore spot.

I will not condone such insult!" Securing the sheet around his middle ,the angel stood. "Good day to you!" He retreated without looking back.

_ The burning feeling inside the demon's shriveled heart was regret. _

**Venice**

The Carnival was grand, all full of music and color and mystery and laughter, the perfect opportunity to blend in, to leave behind all obligations for a night or two. There was no need for any demonic intervention, where there were disguises. There was room for exploitation as well, small burglaries under the guise of celebration where by the end of the day no one would be able to tell whether something had gotten lost or unwittingly switched owners. And just in case, the demon could always pretend it was his own idea, opening a whole new way for a myriad of little misdeeds, corrupting countless souls toward evil. It was just how he liked it, enough to satisfy head office yet never causing true harm. 

Besides, he liked the fashion, liked how the fine brocade fabrics hugged his lean form, how the porcelain mask hid his features, allowed him to blend in with the mortals without worry over his snake’s eyes.

He caught a glimpse of white from the corner of his eye, one of many, but this one was different, not especially tall but quite shapely, moving with a grace that appeared to be otherworldly. Carefully he approached the being, recognizing the shock of platinum curls beneath a feathered hat. "I should have know you would be here," he whispered into the angel's ear, his warm breath against the sensitive shell, startling the other.

"Ah" Aziraphale moved his mask, shaped like a white feline aside, revealing a soft smile. "I could say the same about you."

"You could? How so?" Placing a manicured hand on the demon's shoulder, the angel steered him out of the middle of the crowd.

"Festivals like this bear ground for both good and mischief. It is a time of giving but also…" Aziraphale winked. "Not that I agree with those practices but…" he tried to choose his words carefully. "I cannot deny the appeal of it either," he concluded.

"Hunting for new delicacies then," Crowley concluded. 

"No! Of course I-" the angel sighed in defeat. "Yes. You caught me." 

The demon laughed. "Do not fret like that angel, I can keep a secret. That is, when you can keep mine?"

"Yours?" Aziraphale muttered in confusion, using the moment to allow his gaze to take in the demon in all of his glory. There was a definite appeal in the way the black silk and golden trim complemented the other's fiery red mane. The perfect way to make those eyes- he caught himself just before his mind could wander into less angelic spheres.

"Nevermind." Crowley's dismissal snapped the angel out of his trance.

"It is a time to celebrate so, shall we?" He tilted his head to the side quizzically.

"Fraternizing with the enemy?" The angel gasped.

"Fraternizing!? Now that is a little harsh, wouldn't you say? Let's call it a truce for the night? Let the humans be human?"

Crowley held out a hand and waited."Fine." 

With a decisive nod, the angel took it, squeezing tight as if to warn the other that he had better not double cross him.

_ What they both felt that night was the beginning of companionship. _

**Paris**

The crepes, Crowley had to admit, were rather formidable. No matter how stupid the angel's idea of nicking some all dressed up as a British aristocrat amidst a raging crowd of revolutionaries had been, there was no denying the taste was at least close to worth the trouble.

Of course, it was not the main attraction, at least not to the demon. No, it was the pure expression of bliss on Aziraphale's face whenever he took another bite. There was something like a glow of happiness to him, and Crowley would have been hard pressed to tear his eyes away from it as he nibbled on some of the infamous brioche the other had been rambling about on their way to the tiny cafe far off the main streets where France still seemed to be in perfect order.

"Now tell me, dear boy," the angel said dabbing at his lips with a napkin, "what really brought you here?" 

Crowley leaned back in his chair and shrugged.

"I already told you. Head office gave me a commendation."

"Which you thought of celebrating amidst humans being slaughtered for the supposed greater good? Excuse me for not believing you."

The demon bared his teeth. "And what, pray tell me, do you believe it is then? For the sole purpose of saving your angelic arse. "

Several heads turned to make out the source of the foul language, but due to some sort of miracle, each of them knew better than to comment on it.

"And? Was it?" Aziraphale raised the cup of fine china to his lips and sipped some of the coffee, batting his eyelashes suggestively.

It achieved two things: first, the demon's face turning a deep shade of red and second, the other jumping up from his seat.

"Preposterous. You're not that important!" Crowley growled, then slammed a few coins on the table. "Have it your way." With that he turned and stomped out of the cafe.

Aziraphale merely watched his retreating back, finishing off the rest of his coffee.

_ What he felt in that moment was a deep satisfaction, for his assumption had been proven true. _

**London, 19th century**

"I don't need you!"

The words still rung in his ears like a curse that would ultimately destroy his life. And maybe that's just what it was. He had chased the angel away, given the other a reason to despise him after all these millennia. They had been doing well, as well as one could say an alliance that was composed of parties that should have been at each other's throats instead of dining at the finest restaurants could be.

It felt as if the last flicker of light that had been allowed into his existence had been snuffed by his own idiocy. The angel did not understand, probably assumed that he wanted the holy water to end himself if the need arose. He should have clarified. Or did he try? The angel was so stubborn at times, one of the qualities that had made him so distinct from all the others ever since the first time they met. 

Did it matter now? Hardly. It was not as if he could go back and set the record straight again. 

_ What Crowley felt as he stared at the blank walls of his apartment, was pure despair and loss. _

**The Blitz**

Aziraphale kept on staring at the back of his friend, heart beating fast, so fast and so loud that surely the other must be able to hear it even from the distance.

It was a strange sensation, one the angel was not familiar with, for he was not in need of a beating heart, and yet…

Was it that simple after all? Was it the answer he had always tried to grasp, the reason why the other could bring him both elation and heartbreak whenever their paths crossed?

He grasped the bag of books in his hands a little tighter and followed the demon, settling into the pristine Bentley as if in a trance. 

And suddenly it was all clear, the warmth, the comfort, the reason he had never been afraid of the other. Did Crowley know? Did he feel the same? He could test the waters. Should he?

"Crowley?" The angel mumbled from the passenger's seat, hugging the books to his chest like the most precious trinket, albeit not for the historical significance, but the one that one he would ever be able to understand: a proof of devotion. 

"Yes, angel?" The demon never took his eyes off the street. The world around them was silent, like the calm before another storm, only the whirring of the Bentley's engine cutting through the quiet of the night as the dim lights of street lanterns rushed by, blurred to mere dots under a dark sky. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth, but instead of confessing his new realization he merely said, "Just around that corner. I think I can walk the rest of the way. Clear my head, you understand?"

_ When their ways parted once again, the angel's heart was heavy with unspoken words of love, for he had realized that it was the ultimate truth. _

**The 60s**

"You go to fast for me Crowley." Oh how much the words had stung in his deepest core. Crowley's hands held the steering wheel in an iron grasp. Too fast?! Almost 6000 years, proving his devotion time and time again and he still wasn't good enough?! Why then, why were there so many signs the angel reciprocated at least some of his feelings? He couldn't have been imagining it, could he? All those hidden smiles and tiny blushes and batted eyelashes?

The way the angel whispered his name whenever Crowley surprised him with his appearance? Their shared meetings? An arrangement yes, but it couldn't be all, could it? Was the angel so shallow after all that it meant nothing to him. Yes, Crowley hoped for more than mere friendship, but he would have been fine with anything more than partners in crime. Aziraphale kept on denying it all.

In the end he would have to make due, the demon assumed.

_ What took a hold of his heart was a feeling of emptiness which no memory of happy laughter could fill. _

**The apocalypse that wasn't**

They had done it. Against all odds they had come out victorious. Possibly the mix up.of children eleven years ago and the fact that the Antichrist needed no tutoring being amidst a loving family all of its own had been of help as well. 

Aziraphale stood in the middle of Crowley's vast hallway, fiddling with the lapels of his coat. 

"So...that your place then?" he stated, lacking a better idea of what to say. Why was he feeling so nervous. It wasn't as if all their life had somehow been directed at this moment.

"You hate it, don't you?" Crowley answered, leaning against the doorway, eyes fixed on the angel behind his shades.

"NO! Well...it is.. "

"Empty?" The demon offered. Aziraphale shrugged.

"Different. It's…"

"It is cold" Crowley pushed himself off the wall and sauntered towards his guest.

"It doesn't suit you, dear boy." Aziraphale's eyes followed his path.

"It's not a home. That's why." Crowley stopped in front of the angel, causing the other to tense momentarily.

"But it is yours, isn't it?"

"A place to stay. Nothing more. Your bookshop, that is a home angel."

"Well, uh…" the angel looked at his friend, to.the floor, then back up. "You said it was gone?"

Crowley paled. "Ah...I...I am sorry." He tried to take a step back but was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm.

"Why did you bring me here, my dear?" A soft smile crossed the angel's face, his attempt at offering comfort.

"So you had a place to stay, what else would it-" he was cut off by a finger across his lips.

"6000 years, an almost apocalypse and yet we are still lying to each other? Look at me. No!" Aziraphale shook his head. "Look at me without hiding." He reached up and, after waiting a moment for some sort of protest, removed the shades.

"There. Now tell me, why am I here?"

"What do you want to hear, Aziraphale?" The demon whispered.

"Tell me the truth. It's time, isn't it?" The angels hand wandered up to cup his cheek. 

"You may find that it is mutual."

Crowley's eyes widened. "It is?"

The angel nodded, stood on his tiptoes and touched his lips to the demon's, no more than a light touch, waiting anxiously, until he felt the pressure being returned. 

"Since when?" Crowle whispered once they parted.

The angel sighed. "World War II. But I had a suspicion before. Greece, I think?"

"That long?" The demon's voice was close to breaking. "Why didn't you-" he was cut off by a wave of Aziraphale’s hand.

"I didn't know whether you felt the same. Maybe I did not want to admit. Since when did you?"

Crowley shrunk away, lowering his head as if to.make himself appear smaller, then mumbled. "Always. Ever since the garden."

"Oh my dear boy" without a second thought Aziraphale enveloped the other in a tight embrace. "Will you forgive me? I must have been so blind." The angel buried his face in Crowley’s ginger hair, taking in the familiar scent with deep breaths. 

"Nothing to forgive, angel. We both were." Carefully the demon turned his head, captured the angel's lips in another sweet kiss which soon turned into something more heated. 

Aziraphale chuckled, gladly indulging his friend in making up for millenia of comfort they had lost. Gladly, they were immortal beings, he thought. He would certainly catch up on what they had missed out on. There was a whole lifetime yet ahead of them. 

He was however caught off guard, when nimble fingers started squishing his sides. He squeaked and almost stumbled backwards, resulting in a mortified demon who took a few steps backwards in turn.

"Ssssorry," Crowley muttered, looking down at his feet, face a deep shade of red.

"It's...quite alright my dear. Just didn't expect it. Come here?" Aziraphale opened his arms in invitation, though the demon stayed still in his spot. After waiting for a few moments the angel huffed, rolled his eyes and took the leap, gathering the other against his chest once again.

"Now my dear, don't be so stubborn!"

Crowley yelped in surprise but allowed himself to be cuddled like a lanky teddy bear. He could not quite help a pleased hiss escaping his throat.

"Better?" The angel chuckled, smoothing down some of the unruly red hair.

Crowley nodded. "You're warm."

"And you like that?" Aziraphale kissed the top of the other's head.

"Hmm…"

"And...what else do you like?" 

"I...what...do you mean?"

"Nevermind" the angel laughed. "We have all the time in the universe. Shall we retire?"

"Yes please." Crowley yawned, as if suddenly the weariness of millennia came crashing down on him.

"Very well, lead the way?"

And Crowley did. 

They fell upon the sheets, curling up against each other as hands were desperate to discard clothing that separated skin from skin. When at last they were bare to each other's eyes, the angel straddled Crowley's hips, taking in the demon's slender chest with loving eyes. 

"You are a revelation, my dear, a true beauty."

The other flushed, the pink tint even reaching his chest. 

"Have you ever…" the demon croaked, shivering as a guest of air hit his already heated skin.

"Once or twice, yes. Out of curiosity. But none could ever compare to you."

"Oh…" Crowley looked aside. "So I wasn't good enough?"

"That's not it!" It took the angel some effort to restrain himself till he finally tilted the demon's face back to meet his eyes. "I did not dare to make advances. It seems...I should have known better. I'm sorry." 

"Kiss me!" Crowley demanded, and the angel was happy to oblige, trailing his lips down the other's body, never stopping until he had explored every last inch of skin he could reach. It left them both heated and breathless, aching for more. Gathering his every bit of courage, Crowley wrapped his legs around the angel's hips, heels digging into rounded buttocks. 

"Make me yours angel" he begged, squeezing just a little more. 

"Are you certain?" Crowley nodded. "You will not break me angel." With that he dragged the other into another heated kiss, hips bucking up, causing his straining cock to brush against the smooth skin of the angel's ample stomach. The sensation was both exquisite and maddening. 

"Please angel!" He whimpered, seeking more friction.

"As you wish." Carefully Aziraphale positioned himself, then pushed forward, slowly being engulfed by heat, only stopping once he was completely settled inside the other. 

"My dear" he gasped "you feel exquisite." 

"Move" the other merely commanded and the angel obeyed, setting a slow but firm pace, hands roaming across the skinny chest of his beloved.

It did not take them long to reach their peak, accompanied by soft sighs. 

_ After they settled in each other's arms with their legs tangled and for the first time in six millennia, they both felt content. _

**The first morning of the rest of their lives**

Crowley woke to a sliver of sunshine hitting his face from the gaps between the blinds of his windows. As he turned, he rolled against something soft, something with a familiar scent that hadn't been there before. Instinctively he curled around the warm being emitting a blissful sigh. Everything was perfect. The world was still turning, his angel was with him...his...angel was…

He shot into an upright position, gathering the bedsheets to his naked chest. It was answered with a soft laugh.

"Good morning, dear boy." In a fluid motion, the angel sat up next to him, creamy skin illuminated by the bits of light. "Slept well?"

Crowley nodded. 

Nodding in approval, the angel stretched. "I think I can see the appeal of a good night's rest now. Ah...Crowley?" He tilted his head aside, trying to determine what was holding the demon's attention captive. "Whatever is the matter my dear?"

"Can I see them?!" Crowley blurted out, then covered his mouth with his hands.

"See what?" Aziraphale asked in confusion. 

"Your wings. You had them out when...I just…" Crowley fingers were grasping thin air, as if to snatch up the right words.

"Oh." The angel blushed. "I suppose?"

"Please?" The other added quietly. 

Taking a deep breath as if to steel himself, Aziraphale allowed his white wings to unfold, the tips reaching up to the ceiling. He cracked his neck with a contented sigh.

"Ah...always feels nice to properly stretch them."

Crowley's eyes stared at him in a mixture of awe and sadness. 

"They are more beautiful than I remembered. Unblemished, just pure perfection. Like you angel."

"What- Crowley?" He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "Do not say that you aren’t the same."

"But I am." The demon protested. "And I will forever bear the proof of that." He hung his head in defeat, though, looking back up as he felt the plush tips of feathers brush against his face, soon finding himself sheltered in a cocoon of white.

"I remember this." He muttered, daring to reach out and touch them "You protected me before, just like this. Right in the beginning."

"It was the right thing to do" Aziraphale replied "And I would always do it again."

"I love you angel." 

"And I love you." The angel sealed his words with a gentle kiss.

_ And for the first time in their existence, it felt like home. _


End file.
